


overwhelmed

by Radio Rascal (Vagrants)



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, Gen, Neurodivergent Galvatron, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Supportive Cyclonus, brief appearances of Ultra Magnus and Grimlock and Sweeps, i will singlehandedly populate the platonic Cyclonus & Galvatron tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 22:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20378851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrants/pseuds/Radio%20Rascal
Summary: An embrittled processor can't handle things the way a typical one can, and it's easy to push the owner of such a processor into a crash. Galvatron interrupts his own battle and has a less-than-great day.





	overwhelmed

Today’s raid was going poorly. Galvatron ran over Cybertron’s ground, his legs heavy as he moved them. The terrain was difficult and his footing was unsure, requiring focus to ensure he didn’t trip, and it didn’t help his shooting. His cannon fire went wide most of the time, and each missed attack heightened his anger as he watched his would-be victims move on without noticing him. They hadn’t even properly broken into the Autobot base yet; their prize of stolen energon might as well be as distant as Chaar.

It didn’t help that he hadn’t had much fuel lately, and none at all that day. His processor, already running with reduced functionality, was foggy and slow on tasks that would have been completed near-instantly if he had energy. There was a faint hum in the back of his mind, one he knew would grow in volume and sharpness if he didn’t finish this battle soon.

For some reason, he decided that meant he needed to find Ultra Magnus. He turned abruptly and left behind a pack of Sweeps to get mowed over by Grimlock, who seemed especially loud and energetic today. His Decepticons weren’t just yelling, they were screaming; the gunfire was like explosions; each of his own footfalls was as thunderous as an earthquake. It was as though there was a dial in his head that controlled the sensitivity of his audials, and it was slowly being cranked to maximum allowance. It would start to  _ hurt _ soon. He had to find that Autobot.

Even the muzzle fire from the blasters and the lights from the base were starting to get to him. He kept his gaze low, knowing he might miss Ultra Magnus or collide with someone on accident, but also aware that he was reaching his limit. He didn’t want to  _ cross _ his limit before he found his target.

“Galvatron!”

He snapped to attention, glaring at Ultra Magnus, who stood at the other end of a flat field. His rage had reached a crescendo and he wanted to mangle something, so he lifted his cannon to fire without thought or preamble. As the plasma gathered at the cannon’s mouth, he realized his mistake, but couldn’t stop the firing sequence now.

The noise and light were so close to him, so loud and big and everywhere, that it pushed his struggling processor well beyond the breaking point. Error reports flew at him, his CPU chugged to a near halt, and his sensors became dulled as they no longer had the power to handle everything around him.

He didn’t even know if his shot landed, and didn’t possess the capacity to care. All that mattered was reducing the pain in his head. He squeezed his optics shut and clamped his hands over the sides of his helmet, but the noise was inside him and some light seeped through his optical shutters.

After a second he remembered where he was and lowered his hand to fire his cannon again, but the outside noise sent stabbing pain through his skull, and when he cracked open an optic the scant light seared him as though he were standing on a star. He shut himself off again, returning to the futile, naked shelter he’d tried to make for himself.

He heard a jet fly over, then a transformation and someone heavy striking the ground. It must have been Cyclonus; he and Ultra Magnus exchanged fire and the Autobot was driven away. He approached and stopped close.

He tapped the end of one of Galvatron’s horns. It was a way to announce his presence and to ask permission. Galvatron answered by jerkily lowering his arms and thrusting his hands out, clanging against Cyclonus’s chest plate.

Cyclonus put his hands under Galvatron’s arms and lifted him clear off the ground. They lifted into the air, going who knew where; he kept his optics shut the entire time. He grasped at Cyclonus’s armor for security and cringed closer when they flew over the loud battle. The worst noise was short-lived, and they kept on.

Some time passed, the world growing quieter and the air growing colder. Galvatron risked opening his optics and saw they had flown into a cave system. Cyclonus landed when they were a good distance from the entrance, set him on the ground in a sitting position, and took a place near him. Only his piercing red optics were visible in the deep cavern shadow, but even those were too bright and Galvatron had to avert his gaze.

Outside, the rest of the Decepticons still fought, unless Cyclonus had ordered a retreat. Galvatron didn’t want to ask, and couldn’t speak anyway. All of his processing power had been diverted to a few overtaxed components, leaving the rest of him detached and useless. He wouldn’t be able to rejoin the fight today. Hot, shameful rage shook his frame as his processor regained its capabilities and came to that realization.

He shouldn’t have been like this and he hated it.

Lifting his head, he fixed Cyclonus with a hazy, defeated, and resentful glare. This was taken as a sign that speaking was now all right.

“Did anything in particular upset you, my lord?” Cyclonus asked in a low, soft voice. After a silent moment he continued. “Is it just a bad day?”

Galvatron nodded.

“We have had difficulties recently,” Cyclonus said. “Are you in pain?”

He thought, then shook his head.

“Do you want me to stay here?”

He nodded.

“Do you want me to come closer?”

After a second of hesitation, he shook his head.

“You need fuel,” Cyclonus said, like it was the greatest wisdom. “I assure you, we will get it from somewhere. I will draw it from myself if I must.”

Galvatron snarled, suddenly angry, and Cyclonus snapped his mouth shut. How dare he offer such a thing—how dare it be so tempting.

Everything was quiet for a while. Galvatron’s optics grew accustomed to the darkness, and he could pick out more details in the surrounding rock. At the same time, his processor came back to something resembling normality, restoring his functions. He felt dizzy and tired, like he’d been fighting Autobots this whole time. The peaceful darkness of the cave began to feel stifling.

He stood abruptly and Cyclonus mirrored him. “I’m leaving,” he announced. “Ultra Magnus is still out there, and we have energon to steal.”

“Actually, I received a report from Scourge,” Cyclonus said, bowing his head a little. “They managed to secure a few cubes of energon and are returning to Chaar. Some is being saved for you, of course.”

Galvatron tilted his head up, staring Cyclonus down despite their height difference. “I’ll steal my  _ own _ fuel from the Autobots. I don’t need hand-outs.”  _ I shouldn’t need it. I don’t want to need it. _

“Mighty Galvatron, of course you don’t need us. I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself. However, considering your condition, do you really  _ want _ to fight when there is no need?”

“Of course I do!” He thrust the cannon up, arm twitching. “I want to destroy them all! And I will!”

Cyclonus merely tilted his head at the barrel pointed towards him. He’d have to be awfully ignorant to think there was an actual risk of being shot right now, given how long they’d known each other. “How long will it have been since you last refueled by the time you’re done eviscerating the Autobots?”

He lowered the cannon and considered the question. He thought of the hum in his head building to an agonizing scream, and how the dullest lights could blind him if something bothered his sensitive processor—something like hunger. If he fought an Autobot in this state, he might end up in the same state, and who knew if Cyclonus could rescue him so quickly and cleanly a second time?

It was shameful, and he may have gotten angry with Cyclonus if he weren’t so weary. “Too long,” he half-sighed, half-growled. “Let’s go home.”

“Of course, my lord.”

They took off together, flying out of the cave into a quiet, dark, empty sky. Galvatron’s chronometer said the entire ordeal had only lasted thirty minutes, but to him it felt like hours had passed. If he flew hard he could catch up with the Sweeps before they reached Chaar—but there was no chance of that in his state. It was impossible to feel more embarrassed and resentful of himself, though, and he knew even now that it would soon fade. There would be other, better battles, where he could prove himself and make up for today.

**Author's Note:**

> idk i think about Galvatron and how fucked up he is a lot. he's just out here diagnosed with Symptoms Disorder and nobody's doing anything about it,
> 
> also fuck you Chrome embrittled is a word. your big brother Google says so
> 
> thank you for reading and leaving kudos!


End file.
